<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Nurmengard by violettavioletta</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29599485">Nurmengard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/violettavioletta/pseuds/violettavioletta'>violettavioletta</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M, Past Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:08:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29599485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/violettavioletta/pseuds/violettavioletta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After decades of quietly rotting away, Gellert Grindelwald has a visitor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nurmengard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is cold, in Nurmengard. That is the only thought Albus allows himself to have as he climbs the stairs, on his way to see… him. There are no guards at Nurmengard, at least not since the prison had become home to only one prisoner. There is no point, really. If the sole occupant managed to penetrate the wards, no guard would be able to stop him, even if he didn’t have a wand. Besides, he is very persuasive- perhaps having a guard here would be more dangerous than not. And so, no one is there to see as Albus slips through the wards as if they are water- after all, most of them are his own- and begins to climb the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>He stops when he reaches the cell, at the end of the last hallway on the tallest floor. Its occupant lies in a heap on the floor, seemingly asleep. The bed looks as if it has not been slept in for a long time. The walls, though, are what captivate Albus the most. He knows that Nurmengard allowed its prisoner to take newspapers and send letters if he wished, wanting to avoid repeating the cruel treatment of prisoners that had been common during Grindelwald’s reign of terror. He knew how much the man liked to read, he had perhaps expected some articles hanging up. What he had not expected, however, was dozens, <em>hundreds</em> of pictures of his own face, all over every wall. Most of them are destroyed, savagely ripped, especially around the eyes, as if someone had deliberately tried to stop them from seeing, stop them from knowing, but still, he easily recognizes them as his own face. Even more shocking than the rips, however, is the fact that some of them appear to have been smoothed over, to have been rearranged. As if someone had regretted ripping them, had tried to piece them back together.</p><p> </p><p>“You look terrible”, Gellert- <em>Grindelwald</em>- says suddenly, giving him a once-over. Albus does not start, he had suspected the man was not really asleep. He had probably been alert from the minute Albus stepped into the building, had probably felt his magic start to stir as Albus’s own raw power began to permeate the air. He inclines this head towards the man.</p><p> </p><p>“A matter of opinion, and of little matter. I am not here to exchange pleasantries.” Even as he speaks, though, his eyes wander to the walls, to the pictures of himself, seemingly every picture that’s ever been printed in a newspaper. He wonders what Grindelwald used to stab them, to tear the eyes out. Probably a dull dinner fork, or else his own fingernails- it is not a stretch to imagine that the man had gone a bit mad, rotting away in his own prison.</p><p> </p><p>“I wrote to you”, Grindelwald says, noting the way Albus stares at the walls, “You didn’t write back.”</p><p> </p><p>“I had nothing to say to you”, Albus replies, but it is not bitter. To an outsider, it may have even sounded… mournful.</p><p> </p><p>The end of Grindelwald’s mouth twitches, just a bit. “I don’t believe you. But no matter. I regret my outburst. It was a long time ago. But no changing the past.”</p><p> </p><p>“No”, Albus agrees, and he feels quite certain they are thinking of the same thing. He takes a deep breath. “You are aware, I suppose, of what is going on outside the walls of your prison.”</p><p> </p><p>“Voldemort”, he responds immediately, and Albus is not surprised that he uses the man’s name with no fear, “Yes, I am aware.”</p><p> </p><p>“He wants the wand”, Albus says. Grindelwald raises an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, surely that is of no matter. Unless there is finally a wizard powerful enough to win it from you in a duel?”</p><p> </p><p>Albus’s eyes pierce Grindelwald’s, and for the briefest moment, he thinks he sees something shift behind them, something like humanity. “Unless I am very much mistaken, I will soon be unable to best anyone in any duel at all. Unless, of course, the dead enjoy such sport.”</p><p> </p><p>Grindelwald’s eyes widen almost undetectably, but Albus knows him well, even after all these years, and so he notices. “What did it?”</p><p> </p><p>“The Resurrection Stone.”</p><p> </p><p>A hollow smile makes its way onto Grindelwald’s face. “You have them all, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes”, Albus says simply.</p><p> </p><p>“Ironic”, says Grindelwald, “In trying to conquer death, it seems you’ve brought about your own.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was not attempting to conquer death”, says Albus, rather firmly, and Grindelwald grins an infuriating grin.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course you weren’t.” There is a silence, a long silence. Albus is just about to break it when-</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll lie. Tell him I never had it”, Grindelwald says. “Not… not for you. Just… seems a coward’s way out, is all. To take it from a dead man. The Elder Wand is not for cowards.”</p><p> </p><p>Albus inclines his head. Decides it is best to be polite, so he mumbles, “Thank you.” He is just about to turn and leave and pretend this visit never happened when he hears Grindelwald’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you really have nothing to say to me?”</p><p> </p><p>Albus is confused before he realizes Grindelwald is referring to his earlier remark about why he never answered his letters. He turns back to face the man, and shrugs.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have anything to say to me now?” Grindelwald asks.</p><p> </p><p>He has so many things he wants to say, so many, many things. <em>Did you love me? Did you want me? Was I a pawn to you? Were you using me? Do my name feel as nice on your lips as yours felt on mine? Do you know that I still look at the stars and think of you, because I have never seen them quite so clearly as I did in your arms?</em></p><p> </p><p>Do <em>you love me?</em></p><p> </p><p>“You will never see me again”, is what he finally says instead. “Goodbye.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Dumbledore”, Grindelwald says, “You are not the only one who will be dead soon.” Albus is a bit shocked to realize that he is right. Of course he knew Grindelwald was an old man now, as old as he, really. But to hear it said… to have no choice but to acknowledge it, is unnerving. He looks the man over. He has wasted away here, in his own prison, in a cell Albus has always suspected was meant for him, if Grindelwald had ever managed to capture him. Yes, the man is dying, and quickly. They are, really, two walking skeletons, two collections of dust making pleasant conversation until they wither away.</p><p> </p><p>“No”, he says finally, “I am not. I… perhaps soon I will finally have something to say to you after all, Gellert.”</p><p> </p><p>And with a swish of his cloak, Albus is gone before Gellert can say a word.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>